


picture my face in your hands

by kairiolette



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairiolette/pseuds/kairiolette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Rin and Haru kiss and one time they don't, not necessarily in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	picture my face in your hands

1.  
Studying with Rin is not as profitable as he may have originally thought, and Haru realizes this the hard way. Rin’s brilliant—that is difficult to dispute, though Haru hardly admits it even in his thoughts—but his teaching methods, particularly in the patience column, leave a whole lot to be desired. And he actually really seems bent on studying—both helping Haru with his English assignment and also reading his own book—which, Haru is really not motivated to do. The upside is that while Haru is stationed at Rin’s surprisingly clear desk, Rin has pulled over Nitori’s chair and is working alongside him. The downside—

“Oi, Haru, you’ve been doodling for ten minutes. You’ll never finish,” Rin chastises from over Haru’s shoulder. Haru clenches his jaw and sighs. Rin really cares more about his schoolwork than he does. To prevent another lecture he aligns the tip of his pencil with the blank of one of the questions.

“You’re still good at that, huh?” Rin asks, and Haru casts a sidelong glance at him. He is way too close, hovering over Haru’s shoulder, indicating the doodle of Iwatobi-chan that Haru had unwittingly produced in the corner of his page.

“You can have a keychain of him, if you want,” Haru offers, and he thinks it was rather generous of him, but Rin scoffs.

“Not the weird penguin,” he clarifies bluntly, and Haru bristles but lets it slide, “I meant, you were always good at art, even back in elementary school.”

Haru wonders if that means he’s allowed to neglect his homework and start doodling again.

“I guess,” he replies. Rin laughs at him, for whatever reason Haru cannot decipher, but it’s not unkind laughter. Then he groans, ever-dramatic as he stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, undoubtedly working out the kinks that came along with sitting in an uncomfortable chair. Haru spares him another glance without thinking, and Rin catches him with an obnoxious grin.

“Checking me out?” he teases, and Haru would reproach him for being cocky if Rin’s face had not been blushing red. Typical.

“No,” Haru says, in English, and Rin laughs again, leaning heavily into his elbow on the desk and, once again, hovering over Haru’s shoulder to watch him work. His chin rests on his wrist, strands of hair tickling Haru’s own arm.

“It’s way too hot in here,” he complains, “Hurry up and do your homework.”

Haru huffs, pulling his arm away from Rin’s hair in a way that inadvertently angles his body into Rin’s beside him.

“You’re distracting me,” he says, but he figures it’s not like Rin can help it—it’s probably his own fault he finds Rin so distracting. Rin keeps any response he has to himself, oddly enough, and returns to his book, leaning back in his chair. It’s unusual to witness him doing schoolwork, Haru thinks, but it’s certainly not an unpleasant sight. He’s wearing a loose, dark tank top that becomes even darker in the center from sweat and his hair is no longer up like it had been when they had gone for a run, but the red strands are brushed back from his forehead. He had been lost in concentration, but over the brim of his book, his narrowed eyes meet Haru’s.

“What?” he snaps, and Haru promptly puts his pencil down, springing to his feet.

“I want to go swimming,” he declares with conviction. Undoubtedly the water will work its magic, settle his nerves. Rin curses under his breath, wrapping his hand around Haru’s wrist.

“Haru,” his eyebrow quirks, and Haru grows more impatient under his gaze. “Once you finish your homework you can go down and swim.”

Rin places his book on the desk with Haru’s unfinished homework, his other hand reaching over to grip Haru’s other wrist; Haru realizes it’s because he inadvertently looks like he’s poised for flight. Beneath his exasperation, Rin seems vaguely amused.

“You too, though,” Haru insists, brash, and not sitting down despite Rin’s tugs on his wrists. Rin turns his head back to the desk where their abandoned work lies with a sharp exhale that sounds like a laugh. Haru can tell by the curved apple of his cheek that he’s smiling.

“Yeah, I’ll swim with you,” he sighs, like it’s a chore, and with a final tug from Rin Haru falls back in his chair. Rin keeps a hold on his wrists, though, expression suddenly schooled into a thoughtful frown. Haru cautiously appraises him; he doesn’t pull back because Rin doesn’t. Instead, Rin slides their hands together, palm to palm.

“Why are you doing that?” Haru asks thoughtlessly, fingers twitching against Rin’s slightly longer ones, and he misses the look Rin shoots him.

“What do you mean _why_?” he snaps, then softens, “We’re dating, right? This was a date?”

Haru’s hands slacken in Rin’s grip, mouth falling open in silent surprise. Rin, however, is simultaneously curious and guarded; Haru feels like a spotlight has been shed on him. “It didn’t feel like a date,” is what Haru manages, because it’s true—it just feels like he and Rin, hanging out like they always do. Rin evidently disagrees, tries to pull his hands back while scowling, but Haru just grips them tighter, and Rin looks like he’s waiting for Haru to say something. So annoying.

“We’re dating,” he confirms quietly, mimicking Rin by looking down with feigned interest at their joined hands. They’ve been through this already. Is Rin going to make him confess every time they’re together? Rin’s hands twitch around Haru’s; he sways uncomfortably in his chair.

“Well, we haven’t even kissed yet,” he says while still glaring at Haru defensively, lips pursed in a pout.

“You want to kiss me?” Haru asks, bemused. Does he want to kiss Rin? _Of course,_ he thinks immediately, of course, just thinking about it makes his lips itch—it’s just. Rin has never expressed the desire before. Haru should have known; Rin has always obnoxiously been such a romantic.

“Of course I want to kiss you,” Rin replies, face bright red and still not looking Haru in the face. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

Haru examines Rin, and it is like he has never seen him before; his head is downturned and for once in his life he seems like he wants Haru to take the lead. So Haru does, shifting to the edge of his seat, knees brushing against Rin’s, and leaning in closer than he’s ever been to Rin’s face. The last thing he sees are Rin’s startled wide eyes before he closes his own, blindly pressing in until his lips make contact with Rin’s smooth skin. As quickly as it begins, Haru pulls back, swallowing hard and unknowingly digging his fingers into Rin’s hands.

“Haru,” Rin starts, and then he starts laughing giddily—why is he laughing? Haru furrows his eyebrows, licks his lips. “You missed my mouth, you know.”

Haru blinks.

“That was my chin, Haru,” Rin continues, bangs falling into his face as he laughs, and Haru frowns, tries to pull his hands out of Rin’s grip. Rin quickly straightens himself, scooting to the edge of his chair as well, knee slotting naturally in between Haru’s. He’s still smiling, but it’s kinder, and it’s so close that it keeps Haru from feeling any indignation or embarrassment—he can only focus on how Rin’s clammy hands come up to cup his face, how his eyes flicker between Haru’s eyes and Haru’s lips, and how he almost goes cross-eyed trying to look at Rin. Rin moves in slowly, probably trying to avoid the same mistake Haru made by swooping in too fast. He tilts his head and with his gentle grip on Haru’s face, he tilts Haru’s the opposite.

When their lips meet, Haru thinks it’s surprisingly soft, tender considering Rin’s energy and confidence and his…well, everything. Then again, lately it’s been hard to imagine Rin ever being rough with him, especially when they have moments like these between just the two of them, away from the pool. He supposes, as he sighs through his nose, that it’s also probably because Rin is as unpracticed as he is. His lips aren’t parted but Rin’s seem to be, just a bit, just enough to gently suck at Haru’s lips in a way that should be disagreeable but really isn’t. Haru hardly realizes that his hands have curled around Rin’s elbows, and when Rin finally breaks the kiss, Haru craves more, keeps him close.

Of course, Rin’s wolfish grin takes up half his face.

“Figures,” he whispers, lips still terribly close to Haru’s own, “that I’d be a better kisser than you.”

Determined and embarrassingly seduced, by the shoulders Haru pushes Rin back in his chair and all but slides into his lap, ready to prove him wrong.

2.  
Haru has a conflicting relationship with sleepovers—the healing presence of all his friends versus noisy, sleepless nights that become mornings all too quickly prove to be polar opposites, and either way Haru sports a mild headache. He guesses, however, that the only place he’d rather be at this moment would be the pool. He may not express his begrudging enjoyment of nights like these, but Makoto can translate every quirk of his eyebrows or subtle twist of his lips, and Nagisa knows when he’s supposedly smiling on the inside. Words really aren’t necessary.

For Haru, at the very least. The others don’t seem to agree, considering ceaseless noise coming from their end, but the chattering of his friends has come to be an almost comforting sound, even as they yell and whoop while playing a video game.

Haru passively absorbs all the commotion, as he tends to, from where he sits on the floor, leaning half against the couch and half against Rin’s leg. Rin, along with Nagisa and Rei, is perched on the cushions of the couch, gripping a game controller in his hands, and they’re all intently watching the screen. Haru closes his eyes and lets his head tilt into Rin’s knee.

Rin’s voice, of all the loud voices offering commentary during their round of video games, is most difficult for Haru to tune out, though he does try. Whether this is his fault or Haru’s, Haru isn’t sure, but either way he can’t reduce Rin cursing off Nagisa into background noise. It’s obnoxious; he wouldn’t have minded drifting off for a few moments before it was his turn to play. But, he guesses, there had never been a chance for him to get a good night’s sleep tonight after all.

Rin’s attention, however, is completely absorbed and undivided on the video game he’s playing. Haru is the opposite of jealous or needy but he does scoot closer to Rin’s leg, rubbing his cheek against the top of his thigh and curling his hand around Rin’s ankle beneath his pajamas. The skin is smooth, freshly shaven, and Haru’s fingertips relish the sensation, tracing patterns. Rin doesn’t seem to notice, now noisily teasing Rei.

It’s probably for the better that Rin is so wrapped up in the video game, Haru thinks, because he knows how flustered Rin can get, but also how much he would probably tease Haru for being so helplessly tactile. It’s irresistible and aggravating, and Haru blames Rin, of course, but he’s way too awfully comfortable to move or do anything about it. He subtly turns his head so his lips press against Rin’s knee through the cloth of his pajamas, incredibly uninterested in the video game, eyes closing and mind transporting him elsewhere. He stays like that until an explosion of noise draws him from his reverie—Nagisa whooping loudly and Rei berating him, Makoto giggling, and Rin groaning in defeat. The round is over, Haru concludes, blinking his eyes back open. He suddenly feels Rin’s hand smooth down the hair on the back of his head, then purposely gripping it in his fingers.

Haru turns, Rin’s fingers sliding from his hair to his chin, and he expects to be handed the controller. Instead he finds Rin’s face mere inches from his own, and Rin dips down to crash their lips together. He immediately pulls back to his spot on the couch, face spotted red and decidedly not looking at anything but the television. Haru, dazed, blinks slowly and barely even realizes that Rin had placed the controller in his hands during their kiss.

They have not explicitly confirmed their relationship with their friends, but that certainly seals the deal.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Nagisa with Mako’s hand over his mouth to keep him from squealing, but Mako himself is sporting a knowing smirk. Rei looks like he wants to tease Rin, but instead responds to Makoto when he asks what game they should play next. But Haru ignores them, looking up at Rin where he stubbornly sets his gaze on the television. He evidently feels Haru’s heavy gaze on him; his eyes flicker downward and when they meet Haru’s his lips drag into a pout.

“What?” he mouths, and his mouth starts twisting into a smirk despite himself. He nudges Haru’s shoulder with his calf. “Bet you can’t beat my high score.”

Haru says nothing, turns back around to face the screen instead, leans into Rin’s leg again.

3.  
It’s not their first time.

Their first time had been quick, Rin nearly losing it just working a finger into Haru, Haru actually losing the second Rin had slid himself inside with Rin coming barely moments later. It’s not their second time either, which had been as equally short-lived as the first; Rin on his stomach, making a mess of Haru’s sheets because Haru had spent too much time working him open. So it’s not their first time, but it is the first time they get it right. They had not come within forty-five seconds this time around, and Rin had known exactly how to press into Haru, where to kiss and touch him to make him fall apart.

He tries not to be too smug about it, but his grin helplessly stretches wide across his face even as he comes down from the high. He glances over at Haru across the sheets; Haru, like Rin, is on his back, a sheen layer of sweat shining on his bare skin, chest heaving with every inhale, face flushed and hair ruffled. His own come still splattered on his stomach and even on his chest. Rin wants to bury his face in his pillow and probably get hard again; instead, he reaches behind him for a tissue.

“Gross, Haru,” he teases as he crumples it and swipes it across Haru’s stomach, cleaning up the mess. After a slow realization, Haru wrenches the tissue out of Rin’s hand a few seconds later, blue eyes narrowed in a weak glare that draws a laugh out of Rin. Rin falls back onto his own pillow, still watching Haru as Haru watches the ceiling.

Rin doesn’t know why he’s nervous _now_ , after everything they had just done, but he feels like Haru is some sort of wild animal; preciously fragile, dangerous to touch, impossible to interpret. Tentatively, he reaches his hand toward Haru’s on the bed, curling his fingers loosely around Haru’s own. Haru responds like he’s suspended underwater, sluggishly, but he laces his in between Rin’s and squeezes. He turns on his side, facing Rin with his eyes either cast downward or closed, Rin can’t tell, and Rin moves closer to him so they mirror each other.

“We’re getting pretty good, huh?” Rin sighs, cocky and probably fishing for compliments. Haru hums, lifting his chin—his eyes are closed after all, completely vulnerable to Rin’s gaze.

His not-so-endearing response is endearingly delayed; “You still came first.”

Rin huffs but he’s in way too warm of a mood for there to be any heat behind it. His free hand grips Haru’s waist over the bruises that are probably already forming there. “Only because you were moaning so loud.”

Haru’s eyes flutter open at that, frowning at Rin’s smirk, and he turns away from Rin and onto his back. Rin follows his movement anyway, pressing closer to rest his head on Haru’s chest, grinning happily into Haru’s sticky skin. Haru’s fingers drag up and down Rin’s back leisurely, and Rin listens against Haru’s chest as he inhales and exhales until he nearly drifts off.

“I need to take a bath,” Haru finally perks up, disentangling himself from Rin. Rin moves reluctantly as Haru stands up from the bed. He scoots over to the warm space where Haru’s body had previously been, stretching with an exaggerated grunt, smiling when he sees Haru watching him.

“Okay,” he replies through a yawn, “Wake me up when you’re done so I can take mine.”

He closes his eyes, and he thinks Haru has left, but a weight presses down on the bed beside him. Haru hovers over him, expression so soft and reverent that Rin wants to rub his eyes, make sure he’s seeing it correctly. He places a hand on Rin’s cheek and the other under his chin, tilting his head back into the pillow, and then presses in to swallow Rin’s gasp, capturing Rin’s upper lip between his own and sucking softly. He takes control in a way that makes Rin want to pull him down completely on top of him and start over from the beginning. The unexpected kiss deepens, Haru’s tongue slipping into Rin’s open mouth and Rin’s fingers digging in at Haru’s elbows, but it’s overwhelmingly warm—no urgency, no heat behind it because their bodies are thoroughly spent. When Haru finally breaks the kiss, dragging his teeth along Rin’s bottom lip, hands still cradling Rin’s jaw, his lips are red and Rin’s are numb.

“I need to take a bath,” Haru repeats, breathless, and all Rin can do is nod. Haru doesn’t let him go, though. “Come with me.”

Rin lets Haru pull him by his hands to his feet before he registers what is happening. “You want to take a bath together?”

Haru looks at him over his shoulder, still trying to lead Rin out of the room with both hands without stumbling, “That’s what I said.”

“Huh,” Rin says, smiling, “You must really like me, then.”

“Hm,” is Haru’s response, and Rin likes to think he smiles as he pulls Rin’s arms around his waist.

4.  
It feels nice, after a long day of joint-practice, to lie at the edge of the pool, feet in the water and hands pillowed behind his head. The occasional splash—Haru, the only other person at the pool with him, probably diving under or emerging—is comforting, like a lullaby, and Rin has to be mindful or else he’ll doze off.

He escapes drowsiness when fingers suddenly wrap around his submerged ankle, tugging it lightly. Rin hefts himself up, elbows digging uncomfortably into the concrete. Haru flicks his hair, droplets of water flying either way, and he places either hand on Rin’s knees, peering up Rin expectantly as Rin sits up fully.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. Haru sidles closer through the water, heaving himself up just a bit so he can pillow his soaking wet arms across Rin’s jammer-clad thighs. Expression blank and upturned, he rests his chin atop Rin’s groin, as if that is a totally normal thing to do. Rin wants to laugh; instead threads his fingers through Haru’s damp hair.

“Come in with me,” Haru says, pressing his face into Rin’s stomach in what may be a kiss. Rin rolls his eyes, but he helplessly grins nonetheless. They have been at the pool since eight in the morning, and now the sun was setting, but there’s nowhere else Rin could possibly be.

“Fine, fine,” he replies, shedding his Samezuka windbreaker as Haru kicks back off the wall toward the center of the pool. Rin slides in, the cool water instantly giving him a second wind. Before he can even go under, Haru is back in his space.

He half-expects Haru to drag him over to the lanes for a race, but when he crowds into Rin, pressing him against the wall of the pool and nosing into the crook of his neck, Rin realizes Haru’s not feeling competitive, at least not in that way. He curls his arms around Haru and holds him close when Haru floats his legs up, thighs tucking in around Rin’s waist and ankles locked against his back. They stay like that for a while and the water feels warmer around them. The sky fades like a painting from orange to navy as minutes pass, and Rin idly cups water onto Haru’s exposed shoulders to keep them from shivering.

The sun has set completely when Haru finally lifts his head from Rin’s neck, eyelids heavy and eyelashes as dark as ever. His face is so close to Rin’s that Rin thinks, _hopes_ he’s about to be kissed. Haru’s hands move to hold his shoulders, but he doesn’t lean in like Rin wants him to.

“Rin,” Haru starts, “I want to try something.”

“O-okay,” Rin replies, voice breaking, but Haru doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He pushes back and lets his legs fall from Rin’s waist, standing at arms distance, and as usual, Rin can’t read any expression on his face.

“Go underwater with me,” Haru says, and before Rin can even wonder why, Haru dunks himself under. Rin has no choice but to follow, no questions asked.  
He doesn’t know what to expect, but the second his head is submerged, Haru’s hands hold his face, and his lips press against Rin’s in a kiss. Rin’s eyes open in surprise, stinging and blurry without his goggles, but he indulges Haru, allowing himself to be kissed. It lasts a couple of seconds until laughter quite literally bubbles out of him, and he wrenches back from Haru’s grip. He laughs and coughs as he emerges, Haru following soon thereafter.

“What the fuck was that?” Rin gasps, but Haru ignores him, huddling back into Rin’s arms only this time—he’s rock hard against Rin’s hip. Rin definitely does not make any ungainly noises, but he feels his ears go red, and is this really happening? “Haru, you’re—you’re so fucking weird, oh my god—”

Haru doesn’t seem to register that his boyfriend is seriously judging him; he just presses impossibly closer, wet lips against Rin’s ear, and Rin is only so strong. His hands hands float down, gripping Haru’s hips tight, keeping them still.

“Rin. Turn around,” Haru demands, eyes hazed over when he pulls back, and Rin glares at him but obeys regardless, indulging Haru and a bit himself, he supposes.

“We’re not—we’re not having sex here, Haru,” he gasps definitively as Haru presses in close to his back, lips at his jaw and his hard-on rubbing unabashedly against Rin’s ass. Haru doesn’t seem to hear him, hand slipping down into the front of Rin’s jammers, until Rin grips both his wrists and pointedly looks over his shoulder. Haru groans, Rin can’t tell if it’s because he’s turned on or because they’re _definitely not having sex in this pool_ , so help him.

“Haru,” Rin warns, threading his fingers through Haru’s to keep them from wandering. Haru pouts, as if _Rin_ is in the wrong here, but he moves his hips away from Rin and instead rests his cheek on his shoulder in defeat. Rin finds himself laughing at Haru’s expense.

“Haru, if we had sex in the pool, the water would get dirty,” Rin reasons, and Haru lifts his head, something clicking in his indecipherable mind. Rin sighs, shakes his head, but ultimately finds himself grinning. He has learned rather quickly that with Haru, it’s best to just expect the unexpected. He finally turns around in Haru’s arms, and Haru has the audacity to look a bit sheepish, thumbing at Rin’s shoulder blades.

“But I want to do it in the water,” he sullenly says, so blunt that Rin flushes red again and slaps a palm over his forehead. He retracts himself from Haru and makes to pull himself out of the water, but not before sending a teasing glance over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Rin says, gathering his windbreaker and towel as he shakes himself off and extends a hand down to Haru, “We’ll go to your house. You have a bathtub, don’t you?”

Haru doesn’t hesitate to grab Rin’s hand.

+1  
Rin’s hand hits the wall and Haru knows—they all know—he’s got it. It’s close but it’s _Rin_ , there really can only be one outcome. All eyes, even Rin’s from where he wrenches his goggles off and looks up, are on the digital scoreboard, waiting to see whose name the glowing little ‘1’ lights up next to. Haru watches Rin from where he stands behind the metal bar between the stretch of concrete and the bleachers, watches Rin watching the scoreboard—

Rin’s fists come down in the water, head thrown back in a familiar triumphant laugh the same moment Kou screams his name from beside Haru, echoed by all three of his other friends. Barely sparing a glance at the scoreboard—just to see it with his own two eyes, that ‘1’ next to ‘MATSUOKA RIN,’ and it’s not like he doubted it for a second—he springs into a sprint, skipping the steps in his short descent until he hits concrete, the others in tow.

Rin’s already out of the pool, dripping wet, chest heaving, but grin bright and arms open to catch Haru as he launches into his arms.

“Rin,” he breathes into Rin’s ear, fingers grappling at Rin’s slippery back. Rin buries his face in Haru’s shoulder and Haru figures he might be about to cry, so he’s glad he made it to him first. The crowd cheers, Rin’s teammates are hollering, Kou is close to tears and Nagisa is right there with her, but everything is silent, for Haru, as Rin picks his head up.

Haru had been right—tears, pooling but not quite falling from Rin’s eyes; he reaches up to carefully brush them away with his thumb. And being this close, this proud of Rin, it’s just instinct at this point for Haru to lean up for a kiss.

But Rin turns his head to the side and Haru misses, reminiscent of their very first time. Rin chuckles softly next to Haru’s ear and he squeezes him closer by the waist.

“Trying to get me disqualified, babe?” he teases, voice hoarse and probably choked up, but he pulls back again to grin at Haru, who can’t help but smile softly in return in understanding. Haru’s stepping back from the prolonged embrace is unspoken permission for everyone to trample Rin, but he holds Rin’s hand tight in his own and doesn’t let go. Someone—a coach or an official, perhaps—quickly ushers them all behind boundary lines, away from the pool and away from the eyes of the crowd.

Amidst the congratulations of their friends, Rin and Haru naturally gravitate toward each other, Haru tucking himself both under Rin’s arm around his shoulder and Rin’s towel. Rin tilts his temple against Haru’s forehead, beaming broadly.

“I should get back to the rest of my team,” he says, for Haru’s benefit only, but his grin is cockily flirtatious, obviously still high off his win. Before Haru can respond, a blinding flash goes off before them.

“Gou,” Rin feebly protests, and his sister sports a mischievous but mostly incredibly happy grin. Everyone else jumps behind her to see the outcome on the screen, while Nagisa motions with his hands for Rin and Haru to get closer.

“Kiss!” he all but shouts, and Kou echoes the sentiment with small ecstatic jumps as Mako and Rei laugh, delighted. “Kiss!”

Rin sighs, rolls his eyes but cannot seem to wipe the smile off his face, and his cheeks are red when Haru tilts his chin up, expression blank as ever.

But Rin likes to think he’s getting better at reading those blank expressions. He raises his eyebrows imploringly.

“Really?” he whispers, and Haru responds with a one-shoulder shrug. When Rin’s gaze flickers from his expectant friends back to Haru, Haru’s face is even closer, chin tilted upward.

5.  
“Oh,” Rin breathes his realization, before meeting Haru’s waiting mouth with his own. He feels—on top of his recent win, his friends surrounding him, and Haru—like he has really won, and forgets his surroundings as he palms Haru’s jaw, rocking them side to side in tandem with the rhythm of the kiss.

He hears the cheers of his friends and he sees the flash of Gou’s camera, but knowing Haru, he’s in a world all of his own. Rin would like to stay there with him. He obviously spares the tongue in front of his little sister—in front of anyone other than he and Haru, for that matter—and keeps it sweet, playful; Haru tugs on the pair of goggles around Rin’s neck and Rin grins uncontrollably into the kiss. They only break apart when they run out of breath.

“That’s a keeper!” Kou says, overjoyed, and Rin agrees.


End file.
